


Dysphoria

by thegreatandpowerfultoaster



Series: Found Family [2]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, But they didnt really talk about issues she mightve had so im fixing that, Dysphoria, Gen, I dont want to say fix it fic, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 04:37:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16716717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatandpowerfultoaster/pseuds/thegreatandpowerfultoaster
Summary: They aren't her legs, damnit and she can't fit it, she's trapped in a body that's not right by any stretch of the imagination.She doesn't know who she is, anymore.





	Dysphoria

One minute she's happily chatting with Grunt and Tali in the mess hall, something about how things used to be. Not seconds later she just can't draw a breath right. 

It's thankfully easy enough to leave without attracting any worry, and the elevator is empty. Her legs aren't quite going where she wants them any more, and they just aren't hers.

They aren't her legs, damnit and she can't fit it, she's trapped in a body that's not right by any stretch of the imagination. They aren't her lungs struggling to just do their jobs, and her hands that can't seem to reach the button to open the door by in front of her aren't hers.

None of it is, and she doesn't want it.

This usually doesn't come on so quickly, (yes, of course it's happened before) and she can't even imagine through panicked thoughts what might have brought it on. The lack of sleep maybe? Talking about before? It's hard to remember things from any of the articles Dr. Chakwas had sent her.

Looking in the mirror accidentally while splashing cold water on her face doesn't help anything, judging by the way her heart speeds up and her legs wobble underneath her.

The bed seems miles away, but she makes it, somehow. And there is a thing pushing up in the back of the throat and her eyes stung, and she manages to panic even more.

Commander Jane Shepard does not cry. Did not cry. She's dead, and whoever  _she_  is...maybe she can cry.

 "EDI," she chokes out, through the beginnings of the tears. "Lock the door. No one gets in. I'm..." A code rambles off from her memory, something she doesn't remember learning, but it's there. "And turn on my personal playlist. Full volume."

It's enough to drown out the unsure thoughts, and her hearts screaming, ' _Who am I? What if I'm not what I thought I was? I'm not...I'm not me!_ '

Why won't her head stop thinking these things?

The noise grounds her at least, more than the rocking back and forth, and her head shoves hard into the pillow. Better, no one can hear the sobs over the music, even if logically she knows that no one's going to come up anyways.

Finally it stops, and she feels a little better. Maybe not more like herself, but not as close to breaking down. 

Nothing has been the same since she'd woke up. Maybe that's a blessing somehow, even if she can't see it. Shepard has a hard time believing that. She misses the Alliance, her old crew. She even misses her mom, and that's the most ridiculous thing she's thought, ever.

She hates her mom, and everything she's put her through. 

No, she doesn't hate her. That's unfair, and mean, and she can't say she'd have done anything different in her mother's place. She should at least message her. But not tonight. 

Her door pings. 


End file.
